


Free to a Good Home

by brookebond



Series: Diamonds are Forever [3]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Nonsense, Q has had enough of Bond's shit, i have no idea what to tag this, read it and find out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 11:45:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10661913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brookebond/pseuds/brookebond
Summary: Q has had enough of Bond's shit and puts flyers up in Q-Branch.





	Free to a Good Home

**Author's Note:**

> After a-forger-and-a-point-man trying to buy my husband, I was talking to swtalmnd and she mentioned Bond being sent to Q's house with a note pinned to him.  
> However, things took a turn, and this is what came to be!
> 
> Hope you enjoy my first attempt at writing these two.  
> I'm sorry if it's OOC for either of them.  
> I'm new.
> 
> Unedited and probably riddled with errors.

“What the bloody hell is this?” Bond demanded, shaking the offending piece of paper in Q’s face.

“I warned you,” Q offered as he kept his gaze firmly on the screen in front of him. He had known it would only be a matter of time before Bond found the flyer, but this tantrum really could have come at a more opportune time.

003 was in the field—mission hastily aborted when they were made by the mark—and needed guiding back to safety. It was the reason Q had ventured out of his office, he didn’t want anyone else handling it. Well, didn’t want to put that pressure on anyone else. If MI6 lost an agent, it was going to be on him, not one of his team.

“Next left, 003. No one seems to have noticed that your cell is empty.” Q’s fingers flew across the keyboard, his eyes flicking across all the screens in front of him as he tracked 003’s progress. “Right at the end of the hallway, then up the stairs.”

Q continued monitoring 003’s exit, checking and re-checking that no one was coming after the agent. It wouldn’t do to get them to the roof and lose them at the last moment.

Satisfied that no one was going to burst out of anywhere and shoot 003, Q switched back to the monitor to watch 003 struggling up the stairs. He hadn’t realised they’d been shot in the leg. How had he missed that? “Evac will be on the roof in two minutes. Med team on standby for when you land.”

“You can’t just try selling me every time I do something you don’t like,” Bond said the moment 003 was in the helicopter, his annoyance clearly mounting in the time he’d had to wait.

Q saved and logged out of the computer, making sure the relevant files would be available to him in his office. “If you read it carefully, you’d note I’m not asking for anything. In fact, it says ‘free to a good home’.” Q punctuated his words by pointing at the flyer where it explicitly said just that.

“I do _not_ bleed on everything.”

“You did last week,” Q responded, walking back to his office. With his operative safely on their way back to England, he had a report to write up and wanted the privacy his office would provide.

“I bloody well did not,” Bond huffed, clearly determined to not let this go.

“My cleaning bill begs to differ.” Q paused outside his office, turning to face Bond fully. “If you don’t mind, I have work to do.”

“If I find any more of these—”

“You’ll what?” Q raised a brow, folding his arms over his chest as he stared Bond down. They both knew it was an empty threat. Bond had no ground to stand on, he was just annoyed that Q had brought their domestic problems into Q-Branch. Admittedly, it may not have been the smartest thing Q had ever done, but he had thoroughly warned Bond that if he couldn’t get his dirty socks in the hamper there would be consequences. It was disgusting and Q wasn’t his cleaner. He already had two cats to clean up after, he didn’t ask for a double-oh agent as well.

“Take them down, Q and I’ll cook tonight.”

“Cooking doesn’t mean ordering takeout.”

“I am capable of more than just takeout,” Bond said, crossing his arms over his chest and crumpling the flyer.

Q sighed loudly and held out his hand for the flyer. “I expect dessert.”

“Wouldn’t dream of forgetting it.” Bond handed the flyer over, his lips twitching ever so slightly as he pressed a quick kiss to Q’s lips.

Q watched Bond walk away—his normal swagger back in place—and only entered his office once Bond was out of view.

He sat in his chair, waking up his computer and logging in to start the report on 003’s mission.

Q looked down at the flyer he’d made in a hasty fit of rage at two that morning. 

> _Free to a good home: One James Bond_
> 
>   * __Bleeds on everything you own__
> 

>   * _Never feeds the cats_
> 

>   * _Leaves dirty clothing everywhere_
> 

>   * _Fairly considerate in bed_
> 

>   * _Gives good massages_
> 

> 
> _Yours for the low price of absolutely nothing._
> 
> _Contact your friendly Quartermaster for new ownership._

Q smirked and shoved the flyer into a drawer, figuring he could keep it for the next time Bond needed to be kept in line.


End file.
